


i was blind

by PunchSystem



Series: amazing grace [1]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Heavy Angst, Multi, Other, Post Resist Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Resist Ending, Sad Ending, Survivor Guilt, also all josephs are cult leaders tbh, i mean i know we all have the hots for joseph but the ending was fucking terrifying, imagine this was real and you were the deputy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:11:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunchSystem/pseuds/PunchSystem
Summary: You need to get out. Kill Joseph. Live. Live.Live.The World doesn't live anymore but you need to. You need to prove God wrong.





	i was blind

**Author's Note:**

> part 1 of a part 2 series (maybe ill add more to the series but im a lazy fuck and i really need to get all these feels out after finishing the game at 4 am in the morning)

Your eyes are burning when he leans back in the chair and you try your hardest not to choke up when he stands up and tells you he is going to take a look around. Everything comes crashing down when he closes the door and soon your lips taste salt and iron. Your lungs threaten to collapse when you try to hold it in, first one sob, then two, you don't even try to hold in the next one, you scream it out.

Everything is gone.

Nothing feels real, and at the same time the dirt and the blood and the sweat from the last few days make themselves more apparent when the last few doses of endorphins drip into your bloodstream. Hudson... Stacey...the Sheriff. Everyone is dead. _The World is dead_

You look next to you and only now you notice the puddle of blood forming under Dutch's lifeless body.

Was this God's wrath?

Was Joseph right all along?

**\- For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. -**

Something deep inside of you reminds you of the radio broadcast you heard when you drove to the church, but you can't remember what the voice on the radio said. Everything's a blur.

You lean against the cold metal and rest your cuffed wrists on your knees. You want to sleep and wake up realizing all of this has been a nightmare. Maybe the bliss, maybe the Weed Nick shoved you under and told you to take when sleep wouldn't come easy, something, _anything_ , that would excuse the hell you been thrown into.

But sleep doesn't come. The bunker gets silent again after every little clinkering you hear from different directions and the heat pushes inside the walls, making you feverish. You wonder how long the fire outside will burn.

How long the earth will burn, before God decides Josephs Ark is ready to set sail towards Eden.

Fuck God, the Voice inside of you tells you again. This wasn't God. There is no God. God wouldn't have let all of his children die to prove Paradise exists.

You know Pastor Jerome would scold you if you said these words out loud, but Pastor Jerome isn't here anymore. None of them could have made it.

_It's only you and him now._

A shadow passes the door and you huddle together, partly in fear, partly in realization that you zoned out. But the door stays closed and you slowly gather your thoughts now. You need to get out. Kill Joseph. Live. Live. _Live._ The World doesn't live anymore but you need to. You need to prove God wrong.

**\- Since you are demanding proof that Christ is speaking through me. He is not weak in dealing with you, but is powerful among you. -**

It's an easy lock, so you get on your knees and fiddle into your pocket while silently thanking Jess for her little Survival Kits she gave you every time you called her over. You pray that she made it, but stop when you realize the irony.

It takes a while with only one hairpin, but the lock clicks open and you free your hands, falling over nearly in shock. Thoughts race in your head, but your options are slim, so you grab the pipe in the corner and stand up. Shaky legs, heart racing, you breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Grabbing your stomach you crash to your knees and puke all over your pants and the floor. Your eyes are still burning and now you manage to suppress the sobs, gulping down your upcoming tears. So you stand up again, body shaking as if you are cold, but the surrounding heat just gathers on your forehead and dripples down.

Noises echo through the bunker again and you mentally prepare yourself as you slowly walk up to the door and open it. Humming fills the air and also surprisingly familiar scents of orchids and smoke hit your nose.

Boomer crosses your head and you bite your lip again. Not the time. Not now. Not fucking now.

You enter the barracks and there is Joseph: crouching in front of a closet, searching through it. He is humming Amazing Grace again and you realize how much you start to hate your childhood hymn, and promise yourself if this really is a new nation, a new country, a new _world_ , you won't have a Song that can easily be used to make people drop to their knees to whoever promises them redemption and hope.

As you lift your pipe the humming stops and you don't see the piece of wood coming, only the pain that strikes through your right calf, making you drop to the side, pipe rolling away.

He scolds you, or that's what you can make out as he settles down on your hips. "It's over. I forgive you. But you need to learn that fighting has no use anymore." You trash out, hit him in his face, another kick with your still healthy leg into his groins, but he doesn't dim out, only manages to grab your arms and hold them next to your head.

Words finally leave your mouth now and you don't hush yourself anymore. A monster, a beast, the living and breathing incarnation of evil coming true. Other names you call him aren't so creative anymore, asshole, fucked up cunt, bastard, but after all that is over you ask him why. And after that you vent.

**-And after that you shall plead.-**

He hushes you and let's go of your arms and you leave them, not even trying anymore to make him pay. Tiredness comes quietly, with the realization none of this matters. Everything is gone, _everyone_ is gone, but you are here. Soon the fear of being alone settles in and you suddenly wish you could lean into him for a hug, like a child who scratches his knees, seeking comfort from his parents.

Joseph hands cup your cheeks, and he slowly shakes his head. "A Shepard doesn't let one foul sheep stray away, he will not abandon the weak, nor the uncertain. I will lead you to Eden. I promise." For a few seconds his cold hands on your cheek feel comforting, but your heart ache sets in when he stands up and takes a look on your leg. "You should rest, tomorrow is a new day. A new time has come."

After a few moments you hesitantly take his hand he offers and you rise, born again. Empty. Tired. A newborn baby, still soaked in the water from its mothers womb. An adult just baptized in their own blood. Like Adam when he found himself in God's Garden. The sleep that abandoned you before, now drops sickeningly sweet into every cell of your body.

He leads to you to the nearest bed and sits to your side for a moment.

"Moses said to the people- "

**\- Do not be afraid. God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning. -**

"but God does forgive your sins, if you do thus the same." He stands up and turns his back to you. You are too tired to be angry, too tired to mourn for your friends, the loss of your world, the people you left behind who never even knew you were going to Hope County.

In Police Academy they tell you to think before you act, but no more thoughts cross your head when you drop to the floor and reach for the pipe. The open wound on your leg hurts but it makes you feel awake, realizing what you are about to do.

The first hit strikes his legs, making him fall like you did, the second his head, and he groans something you can't understand. Don't want too. The third his chest and the following are just acts of frustration and for a sense of purpose. Or maybe that is just what you try to tell yourself, hushing the fear of further punishment by some higher power.

You don't know how long you beat his corpse, blood is everywhere and his brain is stuck to both the pipe and on your face, you know that you will never be clean again.

Sitting back on your legs your Vision goes blurry and hot tears fall down upon Joseph. Washing away the dirt and the blood, the hurt and the loss, your purity and sanity. Too weakend to stand up you lay down on your side and curl up, and for some reason you remember Sunday School.

**\- Save us from the time of trial**

**and deliver us from evil.**

**For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours**

**now and for ever. -**

You mouth _amen_ silently as the earth still shatters above you and you wonder when your mind does the same.


End file.
